


All I Need (is you and you)

by Atlanta_Black



Series: Harry Potter One-shots [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Not Beta Read, Polyamory, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, The Golden Trio, We stan Ron Weasley in this house, golden trio poly, we stan hermione granger in this house, with a side of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: Lavender keeps asking nosy questions and rumors have reached Harry's ears.Don’t you ever want to make other friends? Don’t you ever get tired of them?How can you grow tired of people who are your everything?..A short, sweet getting together fic.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Series: Harry Potter One-shots [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875151
Comments: 33
Kudos: 911





	All I Need (is you and you)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a fluffy getting fic for these three for ages! So here we are!
> 
> I'm not 100% happy with the ending but really, am I ever? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

The first rumor they hear comes as a surprise. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. They’re sixteen, an age where they should all be branching out - dating. Instead it seems as if the older they get the more they fall into each other, the less they want to branch out.

Lavender had cocked her head at one point, legs crossed where she was sitting on her bed and asked _Does it not bother you? Never hanging out around other girls?_

Hermione had been more thrown by the question than she likes to admit. Because, admittedly, it should bother her. She should crave some type of female companionship. But she doesn’t. What would they have to speak with her about?

It’s not that she has anything against Lavender or Parvati. She sometimes will spend time with Ginny if the opportunity is there in front of her. But she has no desire to seek them out. They don’t know her. Can’t know her.

They weren’t there when she was eleven and terrified, hands sticky with Ron’s blood. Weren’t there when she was twelve and dreaming of gold eyes for months. Grappling with her own mortality, wondering if this is how it had started for Riddle. Weren’t there when she was thirteen and flinging herself between her best friend and a mass murderer because she would die before she ever let someone touch him.

It’s nothing against them really. She just cannot comprehend the idea of really being friends with anyone other than Ron and Harry.

 _Why would it bother me?_ She had answered blankly, unsure of how to express the thoughts rattling through her head. Perhaps the curious gleam in Lavender’s eyes should have been a warning.

  


* * *

  


When he’s thirteen, before Voldemort is a certainty and not a poorly forgotten dream, his mother sits him down and tells him in a very serious tone that she’s worried about him. Doesn’t he think he should branch out a bit and make more friends? Have other friends than just Harry and Hermione?

He had stared at her, uncomprehending and unwilling to attempt to comprehend. He doesn’t _need_ any other friends.

Sure, Harry’s fame and the easy way he threw money around grated at Ron’s nerves. Yes, Hermione’s constant need to be _better, better, better_ drove him mad. But they were _his._

His friends, in a way that no one else had ever been just his.

“I don’t need any other friends.” He had answered, not realizing how blank his voice had gone. Didn’t understand the worry creasing his mum’s brow. “Why would I need other friends?”

She hadn’t answered. Had pursed her lips and turned away to bang a pot on the stove. He had watched her for a moment longer, before wandering off, the question still bouncing around his head.

He’s not really sure he would know how to be friends with anyone else. Hermione understands when he sneaks extra food on to Harry’s plate for the first month back to school. Harry understands when he goes and gets Hermione kicked out of the library because she’s spent to long by herself.

They both understand when sometimes he has to sit and memorize their faces because he has come so close to losing them far too many times already. The only other person who comes close to understanding is Ginny and he doesn’t think that’s what his mum means when she said make more friends.

Now he’s sixteen and Lavender is sitting across from him at breakfast, eyes sharp and the same question dangling from her lips. _Don’t you ever want to make other friends? Don’t you ever get tired of them?_

 _Why do you care?_ He asks slowly, still trying to parse together the question. To understand what she’s asking him.

 _Oh, no reason, I’m just curious._ She says, voice airy, hand casually waving away the question.

_Do you ever get tired of being around Parvati?_

He’s not sure he’s ever seen her face go so perfectly blank. One of her perfectly manicured nails is tapping out a pattern on the table and there is not an ounce of emotion anywhere on her face.

 _Fair point, Weasley._ She says casually like her hand hasn’t gone and wrapped around the pendant on her neck in a death grip. She’s up and gone before he can do more than blink at her.

  


* * *

  


There are few things in life that Harry is one hundred percent certain of. But he knows that Hermione and Ron are his friends forever the same way he knows that the sun rises in the east and sets in the West.

There are some days, where he thinks he may know them better than he knows himself.

He carries the guilt of every injury they get helping him and he worries that one day he’ll convince himself that leaving them is the only way to keep them safe. He’s not sure if they would let him leave. If he would even have the willpower to turn his back on them. But the guilt gets heavier every year.

He can still hear Ron’s scream from 3rd year, the sound of his bones snapping and the way he had _still_ dragged himself in front of Harry and snarled threats at Sirius. Still remembers the way it had felt to look down at Hermione, frozen in the hospital bed, and really think about how close she had come to dying. How close they had been to losing her. Remembers the naked fear on Ron’s face when Ginny was taken. Hermione in her blood soaked shirt, crying over Ron in the ministry even as she grew paler and paler. Still catches himself staring at the looping scars curling their way around Ron’s arms.

He doesn’t think he can convince himself to leave them but he also doesn’t think he’ll survive if he loses them. Finds himself considering what would happen if Voldemort ever realizes the easiest way to kill him is to hurt them first.

Sixth year so far has been a year of bad tempers, bad weather and strained friendships. He knows his attitude is starting to wear on Hermione especially. The other Gryffindors have taken to avoiding him, having learned quickly that the only people able to deal with him were Hermione and Ron. If it was a good day Neville and Ginny would hang out with them, sometimes dragging Luna along. There were more bad days than good.

Thankfully, it’s a good day when he finds himself standing in the secret passage on the third floor waiting for a couple of gossiping second years to leave. They’ve been gossiping about a couple of Slytherins he’s never heard of before and when suddenly he hears his own name.

“That doesn’t sound right.” the first girl says, sounding skeptical.

“Lavender said it was true!”

“Not everything she says is true you know? Greengrass says she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“I don’t know why you’re always listening to, Astoria. She’s a Slytherin.” The second girl sounds disgusted.

“Whatever. Harry Potter is not sleeping with both of them. Have you seen him this year?”

“Everyone’s seen him. He’s in a piss poor mood constantly. But he’s still always around them.”

“That still doesn’t mean he’s sleeping with them.” The first girl says stubbornly.

“I’m telling you, if by the end of seventh year Potter, Granger and Weasley don’t come out publicly in a relationship then I’ll do your homework for a year!”

They keep bickering back and forth for a while but Harry’s stopped paying attention. Is that really what people think about them? That the three of them are sleeping together.

If this was a bad day he would storm out of the passageway and snarl at the second years to mind their own bloody business. But this is a good day and so he stands in the passageway long after the second years have left just thinking.

He hates that in a weird, off the wall type of way it makes sense. They do everything together. They go to Hogsmeade together, eat together. They study together when Hermione can drag them to the library. Ron and Hermione sit together during quidditch games and cheer him on which is a decidedly typical couple like thing to do.

But does that mean they’re all dating? Do friends not also do those things? Does he _want_ them to be dating?

He’s still contemplating the entire idea when he gets back to the common room. Hermione is sitting in front of the fire, reading a book with horrifyingly tiny text on each page. Ron is stretched out in front of the fire, his head on a pillow next to her. She has one hand absently tangled in his hair even as she reads.

The light from the setting sun catches on the side of her face and lights Ron’s hair up until it looks as if his hair is actually made from flames. His chest feels abnormally tight as he stares at them and he wonders if he always feels like this when he watches them.

Wonders if he’s always felt this sugary sweet rush of affection when he stares at them. Wonders if they feel it too.

  


* * *

  


They’re stretched out on the grass in front of the lake when Harry casually blurts out the question. Blurts it out as if he hasn’t just brought their entire friendship into question.

“Are we dating?” He asks, eyes firmly fixed on the lake and cheeks dark in a way they rarely are anymore.

Ron sits up slowly, curls his finger into the grass and glances over at Hermione. She’s sitting against a tree, knuckles white around her book and face startled in a way he rarely gets to see on her. It’s odd to see her take unaware.

“When you say we,” he says slowly, turning his gaze back to Harry. “do you mean all three of us?”

Harry gives a jerky nod, chin dipping in towards his chest. “I heard some people talking about it, about how they think we are.” he mutters, eyes still fixed on the lake. “How we are dating already that is.”

“Do you want us to be?” Hermione asks gently, and he glances over to see her leaning forward, eyes bright.

Harry opens his mouth, pauses, darts a look at both of them. “I think so, yeah.” He looks over again and then tilts his head, lips twisting in amusement. “Ron, mate, are you alright?”

Ron hadn’t even realized he’d been grinning, cheeks aching with the force of his smile. This feels right. Feels like forever. Like the rest of their life.

 _Don’t you ever get tired of them?_ How could he ever get tired of them when they were his everything?

  


* * *

  


There’s something bright and joyful bubbling up in her chest as she watches Ron grin at Harry. This hadn’t been something she had ever considered. Hadn’t been something she let herself consider. 

Not when Lavender asked her pointed questions or when Ginny gently poked fun at her for never dating. Hadn’t been something she let herself consider because Merlin, how much worse would it hurt to get her hopes up and then have it never happen?

But now Ron is grinning at Harry and Harry is blushing, eyes averted, a pleased grin tugging at his lips. She feels like she could float away right now, the happiness in her chest is so bright.

Ron leans forward suddenly, hand curling around the back of Harry’s neck and she watches, eyes wide as he tips Harry’s head back and kisses him.

If she had let herself consider it, she doesn’t think she would have expected them to be the first to kiss but, as she considers it now, it makes sense. They’d been each others first friend. It feels right that they should kiss first.

One of Harry’s hands has gone up to grasp at Ron’s shirt and she finds herself crawling forward, blood burning with anticipation. Touches trembling fingers to the back of Ron’s neck and tugs lightly at Harry’s hair. He groans, pulls back from Ron, eyes wide and startled, lips spit slicked and parted.

There on the sun soaked grass, in the middle of the day where anyone could see, she leans down and licks her way into Harry’s mouth. Bites his lip and feels Ron push her hair out of the way to gently press a kiss against the side of her neck.

Somewhere there are people watching but she finds that she really doesn’t care.

 _Don’t you ever get sick of being around them?_ Merlin, how could she ever get sick of them. No matter their tempers and all the ways they clash, they were hers. She’d burn the world to keep them at her side.

  


_fin._


End file.
